


What Was Left of a Child

by somedayisours



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: As in a woman being mugged in an alley, Canon Compliant, During Canon, Gen, Just another day in New York, Mugging, Someone call Daredevil, Spider-Man is a kid, Spider-Man is one of the heroes I hate, Stereotypes, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Vigilantism, and yet I write, fine a teenager, still too young to be doing things like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 03:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18402185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somedayisours/pseuds/somedayisours
Summary: Who knew Spider-Man was a kid? Because Jane didn't.





	What Was Left of a Child

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the poem _The Shark_ by Judith Beveridge.

If Jane were in any other position than the one she is in at the moment she would tell him exactly where he could shove his knife, but instead, she's emptying her pockets with shaking hands while he impatiently orders her to hurry up.

There's a crash from the other end of the alley, probably a cat or something, but the noise startles the both of them enough to abandon the course of action they'd non-verbally agreed upon. The knife falls from the man's hand, Jane drops the handful or lint, garbage, and change she'd managed to dig out of her pockets in response, diving for the newly liberated blade on the damp pavement.

There's a struggle then, the both of them fighting over the weapon for command of the situation. Jane rakes her nails across the man's face as he wrestles the knife out of her hands in one last attempt of defiance.

"Bitch!" He curses, rubbing at the cheek with the palm of his free hand. "Maybe I should take something from you," He threatens, leaning back down to let the knife scrape along the neckline her sequin top.

She hates the cold line of fear that slides right through her to her gut in the face of his rage, just as she despises how her hands shook when digging through her purse.

All she can see is a movement in the shadows behind him, something that would normally be written off as a trick of the light if it weren't for the fact that her attacker doesn't get to finish whatever else he was going to say. And that's because he's motionless of the ground next to her.

"Ma'am?"

The voice of this new individual is cautious, a pinch closer to the fear than the concern it's clearly meant to be.

There's a hand in her face then so she takes it, the world spins around her as she's yanked to her feet.

"I'm gonna call the police, okay?"

She can only manage a nod at that, staring at the inhuman face of her saviour as he rambles off their location to the dispatcher on the other end of the line before she realizes who she's looking at. And whose phone he's using.

"Here you go," He says while holding the phone out for her to take.

She takes it.

"Thanks..."

Maybe it's the shock, but none of anything that's just happened seems real. The mugger tangled up in pale webbing on the damp alley floor next to them, the vaguely insectoid eyes to Spider-Man's mask, the surprisingly high pitch to his voice, not to mention how short he is in real life. Apparently.

"Do you, um, wanna hold my hand?" The kid offers, because, yeah, he's a child. She can't see his face through that mask, or his eyes through the pale bulbous lenses, but he can't be any older than her baby brother.

She takes his open palm without a word, the material of the suit slippery against her sweaty palm. 


End file.
